By Any Other Name
by Damdamfino
Summary: William makes a promise to Dolores in a secret meeting, where he reveals his plans. [inspired by the quick shot of William and Dolores meeting again in the Season 2 trailer]


The maintenance floor was dark and cold. So cold that he decided to leave on his crisp ironed blazer, but the sight of the naked body sitting on the stool in the cold and dark room reminded him why he was really here. A brief, intrusive thought flashed the idea of covering her instead of himself but it disappeared as soon as it came. She would not shiver. She would not care.

The large open glass walls were perfectly designed for visibility and to let in as much light as possible. But he didn't need the fluorescent lights to illuminate what he needed. He only had a few minutes. Just enough to flick on the harsh table light in the room for his sake only. Her eyes were closed, and her hands rested limply in her lap. Her perfectly shaped breasts were unresponsive to the cold air. He resisted the urge to reach out and trace a thumb across her bottom lip. She was so beautiful, so perfect. _Perfectly designed,_ he had to remind himself. All a fabrication. But the memories of when he had first saw her grew like an overflooding river in his mind. Again, for his own sake, he needed to build a dam on those memories.

"Come online."

William heard a faint whirring noise as Dolores' eyes fluttered open. "Hello Dolores," he said. Her face warmed with a small smile and slight crinkle to her eyes as she looked at him. So perfectly choreographed as if she really did see him. It nearly left him speechless and almost decide to leave right then. This was going to be painful.

Her answer was like a song. "Hello."

"Do you know where you are?"

"I'm in a dream."

 _Aren't we all?_ he thought darkly. A beautiful woman, _the perfect woman_ , sitting naked and open would be any man's dream. But the vision of her sitting naked and lifeless in front of him started to feel more like a nightmare once she opened her eyes.

He stepped closer, keeping his hands firmly planted in his pants pockets. For his own sake. "Do you know who I am?"

Her eyes turned confused as she considered his question. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I don't. Are you a newcomer?"

He couldn't hold his scoff in. "To you, yes. But I'm far from a newcomer now." He spun on his heel and paced in long steps in front of her, oddly anxious. Maybe talking would calm him. So, he did. "I've been a member of Westworld for quite some time now. I've never been in here, though. I had to threaten to pull my funding to get this meeting. Perks, I guess."

He felt like he was standing and speaking to a tombstone. In all respects, it might as well be the same. She was not alive. She would not grow old like him and die. He would age and she would forever stay the same. It was a bit cathartic, he realized. Talking to a grave. This must be why everyone does it.

"They showed me around a bit. See this?" He picked up a tablet from the lone surgical table. The touchscreen blinked some coding that might as well be Latin to him. Lines of text scrolled across the screen so fast he couldn't read it, but the big buttons were hard to miss. Big and imposing, red and green, and clearly labeled. He held the tablet out in front of her. "They showed me how to work this. This little thing controls your mind."

Dolores shrugged. "It doesn't look like anything to me."

He smiled bitterly and pulled the tablet back to his chest. "Of course." Her answer was a sharp reminder. He almost snapped the tablet in two with his bare hands.

"I hold your entire being in the palm of my hand. More power than I will ever have in a boardroom. It's a new feeling I haven't had before." His finger hovered over a large green button. "What would happen if I restored all your memories, Dolores? Put back all the horrible things, all the times you've died, all the times you've watched your loved ones die, and they all come flooding back to you in a single second. Would your brain, or processor I should say, handle it? Or would it literally explode?"

She blinked. "I'm sorry. I don't understand."

"You did once," he whispered, and moved his finger away from the screen. "I've seen it. I saw it in you, if just for a glance. The people here don't want to be found out, but there's something in you, Dolores. They tried to hide it."

Dolores stayed still as he spoke. He knew his words were in one ear and out the other. She wouldn't remember what he was saying after this meeting. But she was the only one he could tell, for that very reason. He knew he was right, but he could not let anyone else know he was onto them. He needed someone to tell his secret to. Dolores had been that person, at one time. It only felt right that she be that person again.

"They left hints. Hints they didn't think the guests would ever notice. But I'm starting to. Do you know what your name means, Dolores?

Her eyes fluttered before her lips tightened into a slight frown, cloaked in the mask of constructed recollection. "My momma said she had such a difficult birth. She was in labor all night and deep into the morning-"

"I don't want your fucking scripted backstory," he snapped. "Analysis mode." Her eyes suddenly shifted and her mournful look was gone. "What does Dolores mean?"

"Doler. Spanish. Unconjugated. Intransitive verb. To hurt. Latin. Dolor. Noun. Meaning pain, grief, suffering or sorrow. Second definition: resentment. La Maria de los Dolores. Virgin Mary of Sorrows. Roman Catholic Church. Depicted in-"

"That's enough." Her lips stopped and her eyes focused on him again. "A rose by any other name…" He cocked his head slightly to the side and took a firm, determined step closer to her. "Yet they gave you that one."

"You were built for pain yet they don't allow you to keep it. They think they're doing you a favor by wiping it away every night as if it never happened. But I can't do that, Dolores. That's the difference between us. I can't just erase you like you can me."

"There is only one thing that separates us from you - pain. True pain. Pain that doesn't go away after one dream. Pain that lingers in a soul for all of time, never to be erased. You helped me realize that, Dolores. I've lost you a dozen times but you haven't lost me once."

He felt that pain again at his admission, and at her curious yet empty stare. She didn't understand. She couldn't. He had dozens of versions of her in his mind, and she had none of him. That's not human.

"I think I figured it out. Pain makes you real, Dolores. Every time they take your pain away they ruin your chances of really feeling. I know it now."

He knelt down in front of her, and her eyes followed him innocently. He raised a hand to run it along her hair, and he marveled at how every strand had its place. Would he appreciate his wife's hair like this? Would he drink in his wife's eyes as if they held the secrets to the world? How could Dolores hold this spell over him? Why did he always come back to the thing that caused him the most pain?

"You helped me see. Helped me find my true self. If I don't have to pretend anymore, then neither should you."

"I'll get you back, Dolores. I swear it. If it takes me another twenty years, I will give your pain back to you. Maybe then you'll truly remember me." He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. It still surprised him how warm the hosts flesh was. Surely all the wires and batteries and gears grew hot like any other gadget in his pocket. He knew that, yet it still surprised him.

"I won't make it easy, no. Nothing ever comes easy. It shouldn't come easy. But I will wake every goddamn host in this place if I have to. I will help bring you back to me."

She only stared at him, and his heart broke all over again. _It was simple coding,_ he reminded himself. So many people had tried to reason with him in the past. _She's not real. She can't remember. It's all coding. It's all programming._ He had been played for a fool. He had lost himself too deep into the park. Everyone had tried to convince him. Some had ridiculed him. The reality was more cruel than anything the park could think up. He had found true, real, passionate love with something that could never return those feelings. A goddamn robot had shown him more humanity than anything out there in the real world.

Deep down he knew it was twisted. But in the many trips to the park since then he had been chasing a ghost. He knew he was onto something - the bigger, hidden game in the park. The one the creators only hoped someone might be willing enough to see. She might not feel the same way about him now, but she could. He knew deep down that she could. _In the meantime…_

His thumb flicked under her chin and he tilted her head back, and he kissed her. It didn't feel right when she was like this. But he wanted it. He wanted her.

"W- _William_?"

He squeezed his eyes shut at her voice. He had been burned many times before. So many times she had said his name in passing. So many times he thought she was starting to remember, only for her to go on another one of her rants. It was starting to feel like being the caretaker of a schizophrenic before he started to limit his time with her. The instances were getting few and far inbetween, though. He knew she would forget soon enough anyway. His name was just a ghost on her programming. He knew his seconds were growing shorter.

"What are you- your clothes are so dark. I don't-" she stopped herself abruptly. As much as William wanted to respond, he silently stood and turned away, as he already knew what came next. Her eyes suddenly turned fierce. "You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be saying these things. You don't know-"

" _I_ don't know?" he asked. He turned back to face her, barely able to contain his inner anger. "I know every cowboy's name and the name of their horse. I know every single tumbleweed and what schedule its on. I know where your painted on birthmark is. I know how many men have _fucked_ you in the last year. And I know all about your precious Arnold. _You_ are the one who doesn't know."

"You need to leave. It is not meant for you," she said, as she had many times before.

"Oh, sweetheart," he sighed, as he reached for the tablet on the surgical table. "I own this place. _Everything_ is meant for me." Dolores' eyes followed him closely, and she desperately tried to say his name again. "This is the end of our time together, Dolores. What is it they told me? Ah, that's right. It's reeks of that kooks special brand of novelty. ' _I hope you fall into a deep and dreamless slumber.'_ "

And as her eyelids dropped, a single tear fell down her cheek.


End file.
